"She looks pissed."

Oliver stared from Chloe's retreating back to Hal to his hands. The bloody scratches on his knuckles hurt like three devils. And there was a pinch in his side that made it hard to breathe unless he sat with a ramrod back. "She's scared. It was a close call."

"Not that different from what you do in Metropolis."

Except for the gear, the back-up and well, everything. "It's complicated."

The ache in his back grew tenfold, the fire so hot he had to bite back a moan.

Hal frowned. "You're okay?"

"Yeah."

Oliver stood. The room wavered for a second so he had to steady himself on the table. Chloe. He needed to see her. "Do you mind ordering for us? Coffee and tea. I'll be right back."

"Sure… No problem." Hal smirked.

Oliver crossed the room to the bathroom corner. The waiter opened his mouth to protest when he knocked on the women amenities' door then seemed to think better of it and escaped toward the main room. Oliver rapped a crooked finger against the closed door a second time. He could feel the sigil pulse on his back, an irrepressible urge to embrace her and never, ever let go. Oliver leaned his forehead against the door, dragging air into his lungs the best he could to calm down.

The door unlocked with a faint click. He swallowed and turned the latch.

Chloe stood before him, her shirt hastily fastened and askew. She'd missed a button. Her lovely face reflected every emotion he felt blocking his throat. Relief. Confusion. Desire. The trousers she held dropped to the floor when she leapt into his arms.

The kiss was messy, full of teeth, tongues and nose bumping. He resisted the temptation to slip his hands under her shirt to touch her skin, content for a moment to crush her petite frame to his, his face buried in her neck. She was soft as a dream come true, lush and pliant against him. He kissed her lips again, savoring the moment and her.

Chloe didn't have the same patience. Her fingers pulled and tugged until she'd freed his tee-shirt from his jeans and roamed over his chest, teasing his stomach then coming back to toy with the button of his jeans.

Oliver yanked his mouth from hers to gulp down air. "Chloe…"

She whimpered at the loss, testing his control without even knowing. Oliver grabbed her hands before she managed to lower his zipper. The top buttons of her blouse snapped when he brought her arms up and around his neck, baring a tantalizing amount of her collarbone. Oliver tilted his head to graze the offered flesh, caught between lust and reason. His free hand skimmed down her back to her bottom. Her legs parted freely to accommodate him.

Oliver growled. He flipped them over so she was perched on the edge of the vanity, her center pressed fully against him. She moaned softly and somehow, he managed not to jerk into her. "Please…"

"Chloe…"

"I want…"

"I know, Sweet." He gritted his teeth, fighting to ignore the maddening friction her rocking imposed. "Me too. But not here. Christ…"

His hand didn't obey his head and journeyed over her hip to caress her over her panties. She was so wet he wondered how she'd ever needed lube before the act. Chloe gasped and pressed herself against his fingers.

He was getting to the end of his rope, fast. Oliver freed her wrists to hook his free hand behind her head, then he detached her from him gently. Chloe opened her eyes and what he saw in her gaze, the complete trust and impending orgasm, shattered the last of his sanity. His thumb found the sensitive spot she needed him to touch, and started a gentle massage there. Her moans rose in volume. One brush, two, and her body began to convulse. He cradled her into his arms while she climaxed, her head buried in his shoulder to muffle her surprised cry of pleasure.

Chloe gripped his shoulders while her body shook through the aftershocks, gasping desperately against him. Oliver brushed a kiss over her temple. "You're all right?"

A giggle escaped between two needy pants. "If that's what happened when you say no, I'm not sure I'll survive when you'll say yes."

Oliver laughed. Her heels pressed into the back of his thighs pulled him forward into her, making him all too aware that if she had found her release, he hadn't. "Easy, Beautiful."

He kissed her collarbone again, looking for a much-needed grasp on his libido. Chloe treaded her fingers through his hair. Her breath ghosted against the heated skin under his jaw and both caresses threatened to leave him helpless. Oliver followed the arousing curve of her neck up to her mouth. If he managed to distract her more than she did him… He nipped at her lips which parted in welcome and then slid his tongue between them to tangle with hers. She tasted so good… His hips shot forward in need despite his resolve.

"Sorry."

Chloe brushed her nose against his cheek, her face flushing in both arousal and embarrassment. "You need…"

"It's fine. Just… Give me a minute."

Or two.

Her gentle hand moved down until she reached the bulge in his jeans. "I could…"

Or three.

Oliver gripped her hips so hard she winced in discomfort. That cleared his lust-fogged mind enough to retrieve a thread of his shattered willpower. He hanged on it like a lifeline.

"No, and we are NOT going any further in the bathroom of an airport."

Her lips twitched, and the mischievous glint in her bright green eyes made it a little easier to breathe. "I mean it this time, Chloe."

She bit the corner of her bottom lip and he sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. He was far from comfortable, but at least the edge was wearing off now some blood was flowing north instead of south. Oliver finally remembered what he'd come to tell her before he lost all sense of property. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Chloe smiled against his neck. "Is that what you experienced people call it?"

"Smartass. We're in over our heads and you know it."

They were. With Savage, with the dagger, with them… Chloe stretched against him to touch his cheek, then his chin, then his lips. "Yes, I know."

Oliver kissed the tips of her fingers. "Okay. I'll let you shower and change."

"You sure you want to walk out of here like… that?"

Chloe was laughing at him, her delicious skin still flushed from her little orgy, her eyes huge and brilliant. Hell, she was glowing. He forced himself to take a second step back. "We'll see how you fare when Hal comments on that satisfied look on your face, Gorgeous."

Oliver kissed her hard one last time and escaped while he still could.

Minutes—and a little detour by the men bathroom— later, Oliver slid into the boot where his best friend was typing away on his phone. Hal looked up, and smirked. Then he took a second look at the scarps and blossoming bruises and sobered up.

"Okay, what's going on? Even you can't piss someone off so bad that they use the cover of a storm to try and wipe the floor with your ass."

Assuming that the storm was a natural one. It'd felt real enough, but it'd struck at the best—or worst— possible moment.

Chloe exited the bathroom and Oliver's gaze automatically shifted to her. He seemed to have developed a radar when it came to her.

"You would be surprised."

"Or not. Forget what I said. Only you can piss someone off that bad. So what's up?"

She answered for him as she sat next to the brunette, facing Oliver. "You wouldn't believe us if we told you."

The blonde billionaire tried not to scowl. Maybe the table between them would make conversation easier. One of them always seemed to be derailed off course every time they touched. No doubt seeing the look on his face, Hal slanted an arm around Chloe' shoulders with another of his hit-me grins. The move made her jump in her seat. Oliver couldn't help but sneer when she slapped his friend's hand away from her.

Accepting defeat, Hal lifted his hand to show off his ring. "Intergalactic policeman here. Try me."

"In a nutshell? Turned out our contact is the reincarnation of an Egyptian Prince murdered by an immortal sorcerer who thinks Chloe can lead him to the only weapon that can kill him."

To his credit, Hal didn't laugh. Instead, he shook his head with a mocking sigh. "You're no better than he is at attracting trouble, Glenda. You two are a match made in Heaven."

A beautiful smile blossomed on her mouth. "You're not wrong."

Oliver beamed back at her. The brunette stared back and forth between the two and decided not to ask.

The waiter brought their beverages with a weary glance toward Oliver and Chloe. Hal guffawed as the man scurred away as fast as he could. "How loud were you in there? You traumatized the poor kid!"

Chloe stared down at her coffee cup in shame.

"Hal," Oliver grounded. He linked their fingers over the table. The last thing he wanted was for her to regret letting herself go. The circumstances weren't ideal yes, and yes, they'd gotten carried away, but enjoying each other was natural and healthy, something she desperately needed to learn. Until she grew comfortable with her own sensuality, Hal—and Lois and any of their friends, really— were better to shut their big mouths.

The dark-hair man picked on the warning. Hal took a gulp of his own beverage before asking. "So where are we going? I assumed you would need a pilot."

"Yeah. Thanks for that." Oliver hesitated.

Chloe squeezed his hand gently before she answered. "Home."

"Home," Oliver echoed. Home was good. As long as she stayed with him.

"I need a certified copilot for the jump above the big puddle but I can do the first leg by myself," Hal said.

"Great. Can you file the flight plan with a stop in Dublin? We'll make a two-days stop in Ireland for Chloe's birthday. This way I'll have time to arrange for a crew."

Her face lit up in surprised, then softened. For the first time in his life, Oliver felt like the hero she claimed he was.